


A Precarious Place

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [21]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, Prophetic Dreams, Protection, Self-Esteem Issues, Slut Shaming, bad day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Self-doubt overwhelms Hades.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 31
Kudos: 311





	A Precarious Place

**Author's Note:**

> Previously in this series:
> 
> Persephone and Hades are in the early stages of exploring their relationship. Hades broke up with Minthe months ago, but since then, she’s been trying to throw obstacles in their way, including recently trying to blackmail Persephone over her ability to raise the dead. Persephone’s retribution on Apollo caused the Furies to end their contract with Hades and offer their service to Persephone. A few nights ago, Hades joined Persephone and her friends at a bar and the pair ended up making out in the back of a booth.

It’s burning and red and dark. I am afraid, and exhausted, and so alone. Except for the voice. The voice is always near, always watching, always aware of what I’m thinking, even if it doesn’t comment. It mocks me. It hates me, and I hate it. I float, and hug my knees tightly, and stay quiet.

The voice hums inquisitively.  _ I know you can hear me, little traitor boy. You can’t hide from me, you worthless coward. _ I keep my eyes shut and don’t move. Maybe it will go away. Maybe something else will take its attention for a while.

_ Afraid of me, are you? Not so afraid you won’t betray me, I think. _ You would know all about betrayal, wouldn’t you? I don’t say it, though. There’s nothing to gain by talking back to the voice. I know, from long experience.

The voice laughs, long and harsh and cruel. _ I was wrong about you. I thought it was the youngest, the lightning-slinger, that was my true son. The traitor son of the traitor. _

The voice is very dangerous in this mood. It could do anything. I know, somehow, deep down, that this is just a dream. If I wait patiently, it will end. I will wake up and live my life. This thought kindles hope in my heart, a secret flame that warms me. She is waiting for me, when I awaken. It will all be all right.

_ Nothing will ever be all right for you, my son. You are the true heir of the Devourer. You will take that innocent girl and rend her flesh from her bones. You will consume her. _

The laughter now is vicious, like razor-thin whips cutting into my skin.

***

I awake with the taste of bile already in my throat, and run for the bathroom sink. I heave helplessly for some time, my empty stomach twisting and writhing, tears squeezing out of my eyes. When it’s finally over I sit down on the floor and lean my head against the cool tiles, panting.

That dream was even worse than usual. My father’s voice doesn’t usually talk to me that much. I’m nauseated again, thinking about his words. No, don’t do that, I tell myself. It’s a very bad idea to start believing the voice. That road just leads to misery and despair. I should know.

I force myself to get up. It’s not all that early, only about 90 minutes before my alarm is set to go off. I have time for a swim before I need to get ready for the day. Russell hears me moving around, and yawns and stretches, rising from the end of the bed where he was sleeping. He hops down and follows me as I leave the bedroom. 

I walk through the house towards the pool and one by one the other dogs awaken from wherever they were sleeping, and join the parade. When we reach the pool, six of them line up in a row on the short end, watching me. All but Cerberus. I wonder if he’s with Persephone, or just curled up somewhere ignoring the rest of us.

I dive in and begin a vigorous breaststroke. I need to burn off some energy, to work hard enough that I can’t think for a while. I wish I could talk to Persephone, but it would be very selfish to call or text her right now. She seems to be an early riser, but this is ridiculously early, and I hope she’s still asleep.

I swim for a long time, until all thought is driven from my head. I’m tired now, my muscles aching. I climb out and dry off, noticing that the dogs have all departed, presumably going back to their sleeping spots around the house. 

I head to the kitchen to make coffee, and drink some water after my workout. I check the time; it’s almost reasonable to call Persephone now. Maybe I can text her. Then I remember that today she has a full schedule planned, making offsite visits to companies that employ shades on subcontracts. She isn’t even coming in to the office, and I won’t see her until tonight.

Dammit!

The tension that I have so carefully been warding off comes crashing back on me. What is wrong with me? I’m already so dependent on Persephone, so addicted to her, that not seeing her for a few hours drives me to despair? That is completely not fair to her. She isn’t my therapist, or my mother. It’s not her responsibility to pick up the pieces because I had a stupid dream.

I stomp off upstairs to get ready for the day. 

***

I drop off Russell and Cordon Bleu at daycare and then go line up for coffee at my favorite place. I’ve probably been stupid. I should at least have called Persephone this morning, talked to her for a while, checked in on her plans, told her I love her and I miss her. My therapist keeps telling me it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I don’t need to dump everything on Persephone, but that doesn’t mean I have to punish myself by avoiding her, either. 

I pick up my coffee and step out to the street, thumbing my passcode on my phone so I can call my girlfriend. I smile, thinking of Persephone that way, and anticipating hearing her voice.

There’s a tall woman standing in my way and I start to go around without really looking at her, but she addresses me. “Hello, Hades.” Now I do look up. Shit. It’s Minthe. “I need to talk to you,” she says. For the moment at least, she’s calm and collected.

I really don’t want to do this, but I suppose I have to. Persephone told me yesterday that Minthe had approached her and tried to blackmail her way back into my life. I need to put a stop to this.

“Fine,” I say. “Let’s go sit down.” I gesture over to one of the little tables outside the cafe. It’s chilly enough that none of them are occupied right now, but there’s lots of people walking in and out, so we won’t really be alone together.

Minthe waits until we’re settled at a table. She has her hands tucked into her pockets, but I’m still keeping my distance, placing the table between us and sitting well back from it. I have no intention of getting comfortable or lingering over this conversation.

“You never really tried with me,” Minthe starts. “You didn’t give me a fair chance. You expected too much from me and then you threw me away like trash.” Her voice is getting tense already. She’s not controlling her temper very well.

“You know that isn’t true. I tried. I took you to family events, I wanted you around. You’re the one who pushed me away.” I know she’s talking about how I behaved after Persephone came around, and I’m talking about before. It’s taken me a long time to understand exactly how big a mistake I made in agreeing to try a committed relationship with Minthe, and why I did that.

“That wasn’t my fault! I had to do something before you made everything weird between us. Why did you want it to change? Why couldn’t we just go on like before?” I recall the painful argument of our final breakup, when Minthe revealed to me that she knew about the ring I’d bought her. Learning that she pushed me away because she didn’t want me hurt far worse than thinking she just pushed me away because that’s how she is.

“There is no point to going through this again. We are over. We are done, and we’re not getting back together. The suggestion you made to Persephone yesterday was frankly offensive.”

“ _ Offensive _ ? You piece of shit! You know what you’re letting yourself in for? Miss Pinky Tits wasn’t committed to the eternal maidens, and she won’t be to you. You really think Apollo forced her? She’s just saying that to get out of the consequences. She’s a little tramp!” 

I’m cold with anger. I force myself to sit still, and gulp down my coffee.

Minthe goes on, coming off the rails now. “She’s too young for you, you pervert. You think that kind of girl will give you children or something? That’s never going to happen and you know it.”

She’s really taking out all of her knives this time, in determination to hurt me. It’s time for me to go. “I’m not listening to this any more. I only have one thing to say to you,” I start.

“Oh really? I have one thing to say to you! That pink whore is stealing your powers from you. She can bring dead mortals back to life! Do you still think she’s so great?” Minthe gloats.

I shake my head. “I know that. I’ve known for some time.”

Minthe goggles at me, shocked that her big revelation fell flat. “And you’re not even going to do something about it? You’re just going to knuckle under to some Mortal Realm moron, you worthless coward?”

Her unconscious echo of the words of my dream raises the bile in my throat again. I choke down the urge to vomit, and say what I need to say. “I want you to stay away from Persephone. What you did yesterday was unacceptable.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just talk to me! You’ve blocked my number, and you won’t see me anymore! I didn’t have a choice but to go talk to the little bitch.”

I sigh angrily. All I want now is to deliver a reasonable warning and get on with my life. “You keep forgetting that she’s a goddess--” I start.

“Oh, that’s right, rub it in my face! I was never good enough for you, I was just convenient. Good enough to use for sex, but nothing else.”

This is incredibly far from the truth, but I don’t care anymore. “You’re missing my point. Persephone is very patient, but she does have limits. If you piss her off again there will be consequences, and you won’t like them.”

Minthe’s face twists into a sneer. “Oh yes, I’m aware that you’ve got the Furies chasing her around, being her babysitters. Or maybe you’re already worried about her cheating on you? She does live with the God of Sex, doesn’t she? I hope you’re not deluding yourself that nothing’s going on there.”

I shake my head in disgust. Minthe is determined not to get it, but I have to make one last try.

“Please listen to me. We were important to each other for a long time, even if it wasn’t right. I’d rather nothing terrible happens to you. If you keep antagonizing Persephone, she  _ will _ act, and you may not survive it.” I get up from the table. “Please leave both of us alone from now on.” I walk away, tossing my empty coffee cup into the trash. I’m late for my therapy appointment, and I  _ really _ need it.

***

I arrive at the office, and stand in the elevator thinking about the session with my therapist. I described the dream in as much detail as I could remember.  _ And what do you think the dream meant? _ I think it meant my asshole father is never going to leave me alone. I think I’m afraid.  _ And what are you afraid of?  _ I’m afraid I’ve been paying for therapy for years and it doesn’t do me any damned good. I might as well just get an app on my phone to pretend to listen to my nonsense and ask me how it makes me feel!

I don’t  _ know _ how it makes me feel, that’s why I need fucking therapy! That damned hack. The elevator arrives and I stride angrily towards my office. I thought the whole point of therapy was to make me feel better, not to drag me through the shit over and over until I’m sick of it. Why am I paying this guy? 

I intend to go straight up to my office without seeing anyone, but Epimelis waves me down. “Sir! Hecate is waiting in your office to speak with you.”

“Fine,” I growl. If I have to speak with someone, Hecate is the best choice.

I walk into my office and see immediately that it isn’t just Hecate. Sorya is waiting, too. Great. Guess I have to keep my shit together for a while longer.

“Good morning to you both,” I say, making an effort. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“Sit down, Hades,” says Hecate, in that tone that means I’ve fucked up.

This day just keeps getting worse. I sit. “Okay, what did I do?” I’m in no mood for dancing around the issue. I just want to get it over with so I can be alone.

Hecate hands me a folder. I open it, and inside there’s a large, clear photograph of Persephone and me, passionately kissing in a booth at the games bar Saturday night.

“Shit!” I yell.

“Exactly,” says Hecate. “If it hadn’t been for Sorya, that photo would have been on the front page of the  _ Oracle _ today.”

“Fucking hell!” This is completely my fault. I’ve been insanely irresponsible. “What did you have to give them to keep them from publishing this?” I ask Sorya.

“Nothing concrete yet,” she says. “We currently have a 24-hour agreement, so I could speak to you about terms. Can I go so far as an exclusive interview?”

“How about I promise not to shut down their shitty paper and rain fire upon them?” I snarl. My head is starting to hurt.

Sorya looks doubtful. “I can try that, if you want.”

“Perhaps a compromise,” Hecate offers. “You give them a brief comment on your relationship, and maybe we offer that  _ if _ there’s an interview in the future, they get first dibs.”

“Or we could give them a tip-off--tell them someplace you’re going to visit together and allow a couple candid photos. Staged ones, I mean, not  _ this _ candid,” Sorya says, indicating the folder with the picture.

“Whatever you two think best,” I sigh. I’d rather give the press nothing at all, but I suppose some concessions must be made.

“I’ll go along with you,” Hecate says to Sorya. “You can hold the carrot, and I’ll be the stick.”

“Right,” Sorya says. “Let me know when you’re ready to go.” She nods to me and departs, leaving me alone with Hecate.

“Please don’t start,” I say. “I know I was stupid.”

Hecate shrugs. “It could have been worse. Just please remember that you can weather nearly anything, but that isn’t so true for Persephone. Right now the press and the social networks are pretty unanimously praising her, but that could turn and it could get ugly.”

I sigh. I know this, didn’t I ask her not to start? At least she didn’t yell at me, even though I deserve it.

***

I’m in the middle of writing a vicious email to a supplier who screwed up an essential delivery when Epimelis calls on the intercom. “Sir, the Goddess of the Hunt is here to see you?”

Artemis is here? We don’t have an appointment, what can she possibly want?

“Hello, Artemis,” I say when she enters. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. This is an ambush.”

“Really. So you’re here to ask me my intentions, I suppose?” If that’s all she wants, I’ll consider myself lucky.

She glares a bit, and takes a deep breath, controlling her ire. “I’m supposed to be taking care of Persephone. That was the deal with Demeter. I did a really bad job, but that doesn’t mean my job is over.”

I try to control my scowl. “And protecting Persephone from  _ me _ was  _ exactly _ what Demeter had in mind.” Maybe she _ needs _ protection from me. I’ve made her life harder in a lot of ways. Certainly more complicated. It can’t be a bed of roses, coping with me and my baggage.

“Maybe,” Artemis says. “But Demeter wants a lot of things that don’t always make sense.”

That matches with what I’ve observed, too. I doubt Artemis will be willing to share much more with me. She seems to be controlling her hostility, but it’s there.

“Have we ever had a real conversation before Persephone came around?” I ask. I’m fairly sure we haven’t.

“Are you trying to say I’m being unfair to you? That I’m prejudiced?” She looks sour.

I shrug. That’s exactly what I’m saying. “Look, I think Persephone can use all the help she can get. The last thing I want is for her to be hurt. If you’re looking out for her, too, that’s all to the good.”

Now she looks deeply suspicious. It seems I’m not saying the things she expected to hear. “What I came here to say was: are you really sure you’re good enough for her?”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. This is exactly what I’ve been wondering myself. Honestly, I don’t know.

***

It’s after 5:00 and I haven’t heard from Persephone all day. I know she’s busy, she had a packed schedule, and supervising the shade contracts is a new aspect of her job. I’m sure she’s just working really hard to keep on top of things. It’s completely unfair for me to expect her to take time out for me during all that. 

I think about having a drink, but if I start down that road I may well end up drunk on the floor pretty quickly. I never had time for lunch, and for that matter, I don’t recall having a real breakfast, either. I should just wait. I sit down at my desk and take a report from the endless stack. It’s a hideously boring budget report with a punishing number of attached spreadsheets. I sigh and buckle down to it.

I’ve gotten through three reports and I’m starting on a fourth when my phone buzzes with a text. I’m elated to see it’s from Persephone. _ People here have invited me out for drinks after work and I’m going to go with them. _

Oh. 

She’s going out for drinks. I take a deep breath, and try to push down the despondency I’m feeling. We didn’t have specific plans, the idea was just that she’d call me when she was done and we’d discuss it. Well, she’s  _ not _ done; no doubt there are useful discussions to be had and contacts to be developed. 

Just because I’ve been abandoned like this before is no reason to panic. It’s not Persephone’s fault that I have issues. She doesn’t know that. She’s not doing anything wrong. My eyes feel hot and scratchy. I get up from my desk, leaving my phone there, and cross to the drinks cabinet. I get out a tumbler and contemplate the scotch bottle. If I only have one that should be okay, right? Even on an empty stomach? I can order some food, I guess. Or cook at home. The idea is unappealing but I know that it’s more rational than starting to drink.

I sigh, and put down the scotch. I don’t want it, not really. I don’t want food. I go lie down on the couch. The truth is, all I want is Persephone. She’s all I’ve wanted since I first woke up on this endlessly horrible day. 

I’m trying to breathe slowly, keep control of myself, but I just want to howl. This day has been a shit-show since before I even woke up, and I’ve kept it together, promising myself that the end of the day would make it all worthwhile. And now she’s busy with something else. No, I’m just being selfish. This is a good thing; she’s making more friends and improving a business relationship. She doesn’t need to spend all her time with a needy, emotionally-stunted old man.

I go back to my desk to get my phone, intending to text Persephone and tell her I’m going home. When I open the text app, there’s a second message from her, sent less than a minute after the first.  _ Can you join us? I really miss you. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Red, best beta ever!


End file.
